


Spending My Time

by Fire_Traveller



Series: Good Omens Lockdown [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Misses Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale-centric (Good Omens), Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Other, Pining, Post-Episode: Good Omens: Lockdown, Song: Spending My Time (Roxette), depressed angel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:35:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27101305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fire_Traveller/pseuds/Fire_Traveller
Summary: As published in The Ineffable Con 2 Zine. A oneshot of sorts of what Aziraphale did after the little lockdown post-episode. Can definitely be read as a very belated contribution to AngelWYD and a prequel to my dialogue-only fanfic “I Set My Alarm for…October???”. It’s somewhat sad, since the angel got a bit depressed, being all on his own. He never expected Crowley to actually do what he said and not come over – and now, he has to live with the consequences. Heavily influenced (as the title may suggest) by the song “Spending My Time” by Roxette.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Lockdown [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978105
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Spending My Time

Aziraphale stared out through the window with a sigh. Another morning. The sun was rising. Again. Just like every morning, sometimes visible, often hidden behind clouds or rain. He sighed again, casting a glance at the clock without really seeing the time it showed. It had been weeks, nay, months since he’d heard from Crowley. Months since their last conversation via the telephone. Months since his mistake. Because a mistake it had been, that much he’d realised by now.

By now, the bookshop looked rather like a peculiar mix between a bookshop and a bakery: biscuits, cakes, pies, tartes, American cookies, brownies, crumpets, scones…there really seemed to be nothing he hadn’t tried his hands on. Most of his attempts at baking had actually been surprisingly successful, but now? With another sigh, he got up out of his chair and went to make himself some tea. Cup in hand, he wandered through the shop, absentmindedly miracling the dust off the bookshelves and ensuring with another miracle that all his baked goods stayed fresh. In the beginning, he’d enjoyed eating whatever he’d baked, but it had soon become too much even for him to handle, and if he was being totally honest with himself…he’d somewhat lost his appetite.

He’d read a lot as well, but right now, that, too, wasn’t what he felt in the mood for. The silence was deafening and he was desperate for…sound? _‘Well, not exactly’_ , he thought to himself. Sound wasn’t the whole truth. What he was truly longing for was conversation. Books didn’t answer, after all. Even under normal circumstances, only few people ventured into his bookshop, but now, with that virus still keeping everyone on their toes, there were hardly any customers to speak of. In fact, there were so few of them that the angel had actually been happy to hear the doorbell jingle that one time. But that bliss had been short-lived and he’d soon decided that there was no point in keeping the shop open at all. He’d simply flipped the sign at the door to ‘Closed’ and kept it that way. Because…well…why? Well, the thing was that it wasn’t random customers he wanted to talk to. It was a certain demon who’d decided to take a nap for as long as the madness out there prevailed. And it was all Aziraphale’s fault.

Why…why, oh why had he told Crowley to not come over? It had been a matter of principle, really…and he hadn’t really expected Crowley to just accept his rejection and go to sleep instead. Crowley was a demon, after all – wasn’t he bound to do the contrary of what an angel told him to do? Instead, the demon had decided to sleep…Aziraphale wondered if Crowley might be…thinking of him too, in his sleep?

He sighed again, hardly noticing that he did. He’d been prowling his shop and now found himself in his little flat upstairs. His eyes fell on the ancient television in the corner. Well, maybe that would at least provide some entertainment…and most importantly, something to drown out the silence. He switched it on, but found soon that it didn’t help. His mind still kept drifting back to Crowley and their last conversation, so much so that he couldn’t follow whatever was being said or done on the telly. In fact, if he heard it at all, it only registered in his mind as a disturbance. But he’d wanted to force his mind to occupy itself with something else, right? Why wasn’t it working?

Slightly annoyed, he went back downstairs. Grabbing a book, the angel plopped down on the sofa and tried to read a bit. It didn’t work. The story, a story he was sure he knew pretty much by heart now anyway, just couldn’t keep his attention. Since his thoughts were elsewhere, the sentences soon enough stopped making any sense. Frustrated, he closed the book and put it away again. Instead, he just stared emptily at the opposite wall.

 _‘Normally, Crowley would sit right here’_ , he caught himself thinking. Well, maybe it was a good thing that Crowley _wasn’t_ here right now. If he was being honest with himself, he was quite obviously in a rather sorry state. _‘Well, perhaps I should thank the Almighty for the fact that no one can see me like this…least of all Crowley…’_ He felt…terribly small and alone in the world. Why was that? They’d been apart for way longer periods of time before, this was just the blink of an eye! But…somehow, it felt different. After the last few years where they’d been so close, after stopping the Apocalypse together, after…finally slowly exploring what it meant to be on their own side…well, with Crowley out of reach now, Aziraphale felt…truly alone. He…missed Crowley. There was no denying it. Was that why Crowley had decided to go to sleep? Because…the demon missed him too? A part of him certainly hoped so.

The angel shook his head. Crowley wasn’t completely out of reach, right? He could still try to call him…again. Maybe the telephone ringing would wake him up this time and then Aziraphale could apologise and ask him to come over after all. Having made up his mind, he got up and walked over to his desk, grabbing his old telephone. Before he could chicken out of it, he dialled the familiar number…It rang…and rang…and rang…and went to the ansaphone. Aziraphale closed his eyes. He did not want to talk to that machine. He didn’t know what to say anyway. Not to a machine. Shaking his head, he hung up. Again.

This was turning into a bad dream. And there was no way for him to wake up, because this was actually the reality. He sighed – for the umpteenth time, it seemed. Well, he’d played the silly game as usual, pushing Crowley away, and this time, the demon had relented and Aziraphale was paying the price for his own stubbornness. He’d won…only to lose by doing so. Admittedly, he felt rather foolish. Like a ridiculous clown. There was a certain bitterness in this realisation. Bitterness and regret. He only noticed the sting of tears when he tried to actually blink them away.

The angel continued prowling through his shop until he saw the sun setting once more. Another day over. That meant another day closer to when Crowley had said he’d set his alarm. Aziraphale was counting the days. Days that seemed to stretch endlessly and flow into each other. He wasn’t quite sure how often he’d taken up enough courage to try and call Crowley, but it had always been the same as today. Just the ansaphone. On a similar note, he’d kept on praying that the next time it would be different…or that Crowley would just saunter in through the door all of a sudden. But those prayers remained unanswered. As usual.

And yet…It wasn’t all bleak, was it? There was a silver lining, after all – an ending to all of this was in sight…Admittedly, it was still a while and life outside was still not back to normal (far from it), but Crowley _would_ wake up eventually…and then…And then…Well, Aziraphale was determined to make up for the lost time then. Until then, he’d try his best at just…spending his time somehow.

**Author's Note:**

> This was first published in the zine of The Ineffable Con 2 last weekend. I like Roxette and when I listened to "Spending My Time", it sort of made me think of a very lonely angel regretting that he didn't ask Crowley to come over during their last phone call. It can definitely stand on its own, but kinda ties in nicely as a prequel to "I Set My Alarm for...October???" So, since the con is over, here you go - hope you like it and don't get too depressed. The current situation weighs down on all of us, angels and demons included. If you want a happy ending, go read the sequel ;)


End file.
